


Garden of the Moon

by TrashqueenofAngmar91



Series: Of Shadows and Tenderness [13]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bonding, But it became romantic so fuck it, Dirty Talk, Elements from the books were used for this, F/M, Flowers, Fluff, Headcanon, I WILL deliver Witch-king/Reader smut to the world, I'm Sorry Tolkien, Kings & Queens, Light Angst, Major AU, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Outdoor Sex, Reader is a woman, Reader is of the race of Man, Reader never left Minas Morgul, This was supposed to be a Halloween fic of sorts, Vaginal Sex, Witch-king’s only real kink is to love and be loved, Witchcraft, creative liberties were taken
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:53:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26691736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashqueenofAngmar91/pseuds/TrashqueenofAngmar91
Summary: There was a shred of beauty within the domain of the Witch-king. All one had to do was to be granted the opportunity to see it.Smut in chapter 2.Not part of the series’ canon events.
Relationships: Witch-King of Angmar/Reader
Series: Of Shadows and Tenderness [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/806124
Comments: 16
Kudos: 49





	1. Angmar Phlox

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y’all. Had to do it. That’s pretty much my explanation for every single Witch-king/Reader thing I make. This was supposed to be a Halloween-themed story but it didn’t quite go according to plan. But it takes place in October so it’s kinda, sorta a Halloween fic??? Maybe?? And you’re fucking one of the scariest dudes in Middle Earth so yeah. 
> 
> ANYWAY.
> 
> The first chapter here is fluffy and corny. The next one will have smut so heads up to any sweet summer children here. Run while you still can LMAO. When it is posted, the rating will be changed to Explicit. 
> 
> Read on and enjoy!

Garden of the Moon

Chapter 1 Angmar Phlox

" _I know you may have heard of it but you have not seen it. I know it is not what your heart yearns for…but I hope it can give you some peace_."

The only sound that could be heard in the dead of the crisp, early October evening was the sound of horses' hooves and lightly clanking armor. Every now and then, whenever you passed by a cluster of shrubs, you would hear a stray cricket or two. Other than those noises, the trip was silent. But it didn't frighten or unnerve you in the slightest.

The leaves of the sparse trees that dotted the area you traveled through were beginning to shift. Their colors turned from different shades of greens to golds, oranges and reds. When a rogue wind blew, their leaves were loosened and dispersed, sending them sailing through the air. Despite the fact these trees lingered within these cursed grounds, they managed to survive and grow. They bloomed, slumbered and the cycle repeated as it always did.

A full, bright moon hung high in the sky. Feathery, gray clouds ran across the glorious disc, obscuring its luminosity periodically but your eyes had become accustomed to the darkness. The clouds would be a temporary hinderance as they made their path across the moon, casting darkness yet allowing the heavenly object to glow unhindered in time once again. There were a few, scattered stars as well but they appeared dim on this night, hardly a noticeable feature at all.

" _It shall be only you and I. Come._ "

You looked ahead, spotting your companion. He sat atop his steed, looking as if he was the night himself, his dark shrouds and robes making him almost one with the darkness. You kept behind him, following him as he guided you to the haven which he mentioned.

When you first arrived to this cursed area of Ithilien a year ago, you would've believed there was no such thing as a sanctuary. Within the borders of Minas Morgul, there would be no respite, no hallowed, peaceful ground. But as you lived within those walls and became familiar with it, you saw that wasn't necessarily true. Being in the company of darkness and being joined with the Morgul lord caused you to perceive things far differently. There were indeed pockets of refuge within the place; one only needed to know where they were exactly.

Lately, you had been feeling particularly homesick. Although it was autumn and things were beginning to wither and fall into a deep sleep, you missed the life and greenery of your home. The dreams you had of your garden and the verdant, bright landscape it sat in the middle of was pleasant and vivid enough. They were realistic as well but you knew it was only a beautiful illusion.

What you sought was something more material and physical. You needed to see it with your own eyes. You needed to walk through them softly and admire them.

His horse slowed and that prompted you to mimic him. Both horses trotted along the path which actually looked like something only animals traversed but it was noticeable enough. You could hear the softly flowing, cold waters of the Morgulduin as you inched closer to the corrupted river.

"We are close?" you called out.

"Yes," his raspy but deep voice replied. "You need only follow me."

As you allowed yourself to be led along, you could see some sort of strange, glow in the distance. There was also a curious smell in the air. It smelled somewhat like Minas Morgul but less offensive. You had since become conditioned and unaffected by the stench of the dreaded citadel so this new aroma was almost pleasant to a certain degree. But you could detect a whiff of some sort of darkness to it, just like with most things that dwelt within the Morgul Vale.

Finally, he stopped and you did in return. Your eyes flitted around, trying to get your bearings on this unfamiliar and strange piece of the Witch-king's domain. It was completely foreign to you and you sought to memorize it as much as you could.

You were snapped from your observations when you felt the cool touch of his gauntlet on your hand. He had already dismounted and you didn't realize it. You gave him a somewhat shy smile, feeling silly at being disconnected. He helped you down from your horse, gingerly setting your feet on the ground when he released you from his grasp.

"I have heard some rumors of this place before I arrived here," you said. "The waters are noxious and vaporous. The landscape itself twisted and inhospitable..."

"That may be true," the Nazgûl said, "but heed me when I say there is something here that I assume you will appreciate." He offered you his hand. "It is only a short walk, my dear."

Without any fear in your heart, you accepted his gesture. You inched closer to his side, showing him that you were not afraid. That had long since passed. Things in Minas Morgul, in your eyes, were far tamer than the things that lurked past the mountains and in the land of Mordor.

The Witch-king trod upon the barely noticeable path, ferrying you further from familiarity and into the unknown. You walked beside him, noticing that the smell became stronger and the glow brighter as you continued along. Your curiosity was becoming insatiable at this point and you desired to see this mysterious source.

Clouds moved past the moon above, marring it and making things darker. When that happened, the glow seemed to diminish, fueling your confusion. At this point, it was at the darkest it had been at your journey and it was difficult to see much of anything even with your acclimated eyes. His hold on your hand tightened subtly, assuring you that he wouldn't let you stumble.

"Sometimes, when I am granted a rare moment of solitude and peace, I seek refuge here," he said. "However, it has been some decades since I last came here."

"What is it about this place that draws you?" you wondered.

"Because I know I will be alone when I come here. There is also something about this place that soothes me. Perhaps it is some remnant of my old life that makes me partial to it. I cannot describe it, it is strange."

"And yet here I am, trespassing upon this place." You laughed quietly. "You may regret enlightening me about this retreat of yours, my king."

"Far from it. I have invited you. I hope it will give you some peace and closure and that is why I wish to show you it. Your dreams are merely dreams after all. And this? This is something you can feel, smell, touch… There is no illusion here." He hissed quietly and he briefly looked up at the sky. "Although it appears that the weather is going against my will. This is my domain."

The two of you walked up a small slope. The waters of the river grew louder as they flowed westward. Still, the glow remained but it was muted and barely noticeable. Your eagerness only grew and your hand held onto his tighter, betraying your true thoughts and feelings.

As you reached the crest of the hill, he lifted his free hand. The Witch-king raised his voice and he uttered some sort of incantation in Black Speech.

You blinked in surprise when you could see the curtain of clouds that obscured the moon began to move along faster, looking as if they were being pushed aside from some strong wind all the way up in the heavens. You had experienced some scope of his capabilities but you weren't aware of everything he could do. It seemed like a simple enough feat and was possibly one of the easiest spells he could administer but you were impressed nonetheless.

As soon as the moon was freed and fully unobstructed, it seemed that the whole area around you seemed to glow brighter. It almost appeared that the moonlight was being reflected off this darkened, barren earth.

And then when you finally made it to the top of the hill, your eyes beheld it all. At last, you arrived to this secret hollow.

You stood before an expansive meadow that seemed to extend as far as your eyes could see. The source of the ethereal glow was a most peculiar flower. From what you could see, they shone brightly and strongly in the moonlight and reflected it, creating the strange light you had seen from afar. The meadow consisted entirely of this small, pale plant life. To the right of the meadow ran the dark Morgulduin and on the opposite side of the bank, there lay another meadow. Just like the one closest to you, it was filled with the Morgul flower. This one also emitted its haunting but strangely soothing light for as long as the moon hung high and bright. Farther east, you could see the looming citadel which you resided in. Even from afar, it emitted that greenish corpse-light that was unmistakable.

You were silent as you looked on in awe over the flowery landscape. Although this land was poisoned and corrupted, tainted by the darkness of Minas Morgul, there was some eerie beauty to it. Without a doubt, this was the comeliest feature this region wielded. This was the garden of the Wraiths.

"These flowers wither and shun the strong rays of the sun," he said, "but they flourish and bloom under the light of the moon. As you can see, the full moon is when they're at their most vibrant."

These were certainly unlike all the roses, sunflowers, peonies and countless other flowers you were so accustomed to back home. They were polar opposites and they thrived under their specific conditions. This was the flower of the Nazgûll and only these small, pale things could survive and persist amongst their presence.

He let go of your hand and you carefully stepped into the meadow. You traipsed delicately, not wanting to crush the flowers and ruin the shadowy serenity of the field. Your eyes studied the expanse and turned to the other meadow on the opposite side of the river. It was strange how you never seemed to notice this place from within the walls of Minas Morgul. Perhaps from the angle you were at, you never caught sight of it. Perhaps the glow wasn't ever particularly noticeable from afar.

You knelt down, wanting to examine them closer. As carefully as possible, you plucked one of the dainty flowers. Your eyes narrowed and your gaze hardened, observing it. The flower somewhat reminded you of phlox with its general shape. The petals actually ended in triangular tips which you thought was rather odd. They were mainly white but the center of the flower was colored a muted green and yellow. And as you looked closer, you could've sworn you saw the center was in the abstract shape of a skull but you assumed it was merely an illusion. The odor wasn't as wonderfully smelling as your mother's tulips and irises. But the flowers smelled somewhat like the damp earth itself. It had a cold air to it that you couldn't quite describe.

"I have never seen a flower like this before," you said. "Such a strange thing. It is so fragile looking but strong in its own bizarre way." You stood back up and turned to face him. "Thank you. Thank you for showing me this place. It is unlike anything I have ever seen. I can say with absolute certainly I've never encountered a flower that flourished under the moon."

"Let us linger here for awhile, my dear," he said. "I know you grow tired of the citadel. I do as well."

"It is a pity… I do not think I would be able to plant any back home. The sun would kill them."

"These flowers are unique to this place. They can grow nowhere else."

"Do they have a name? What are they called?"

"I haven't given them one. The Gondorian Rangers refer to them as 'Morgul flowers'. Rather uncreative."

"Then perhaps I shall give them a better name." You hummed and mulled the matter over, trying to think of something. "Angmar phlox?"

He laughed quietly.

"You are far from that old kingdom," he said. "It is also far warmer here than it is in Angmar, my dear.

"But these are your flowers," you argued. "And you were Angmar's first and only king. At least you must agree that it is better than 'Morgul flowers'. And they remind me of the phlox I know." You smiled and gave him a small chuckle. "Or are you perhaps a seasoned botanist and I never knew?"

Something like a scoff and a brief snicker came from the dark and seemingly empty hood.

"Flowers are merely flowers to me," he admitted. "I shall leave these matters to you, my wife. When it comes down to the topic of horticulture, I cannot best you."

You walked further into the otherworldly field, entranced by it. The longer you beheld and walked in it, the more you appreciated it. This was not like the much smaller but hugely varied garden your mother cultivated but it was still a sight to never forget. Your heart was less heavy as you stood in the sea of the newly christened Angmar phlox, feeling comforted by seeing some flora.

Your husband's assumption was indeed correct. He knew you well enough to believe you would relish something like this. He was mindful and observant. Without a doubt, he did pay attention to what you said. It seemed nothing went unnoticed before him.

Though it was a withered and cold thing, you knew his heart. And you were honored to have been bestowed it.

You did not hear him follow you.

"Walk with me," you smiled gently. You faced him, seeing him stand at the edge of the flowers. "I would like you to accompany me, you've shown me this place after all."

"You do not wish to explore it on your own?" he sounded confused. "No one shall intrude upon you here or disturb you. Men won't even dare to set foot here."

"I would like to experience this new place with you. Sometimes you must share an experience with someone to make it truly memorable."

He stood silent and unmoving for a few seconds after you said those words. But he didn't remain immobile for long as he then strode forward. The lord of the Nazgul stepped into the meadow, making his way to your side.

"If my wife wishes it, I will join her," he said.

You held your hand out to him. Unflinchingly, he grasped onto it.

"I very much desire it," you asserted.

"I am aware that this place seems a little…" The Witch-king paused, trying to sift internally for the right word. "Uniform. But I hope that you can see this as your garden away from home."

"These flowers are peculiar but that is part of their charm and allure." You walked further into the field, the Wraith accompanying you. "I am flattered and happy you brought me here."

"Minas Morgul is your home and this place is part of it. This is yours as much as it is mine, my dear."

"So, do any souls frequent this place at all?"

"Orcs do not care for these fields. The Rangers of Gondor dare not trespass too closely. These flowers are a sort of marker for them. Once they see them, they turn around. They are loath to come any closer and they've come to look distastefully upon this flora."

"You are the only one then?"

"To my knowledge, yes. As I have said, it has been some time since I last came here. It looks unchanged and undisturbed." His hooded head turned from left to right, taking in the sight. "There used to be a farmhouse here a thousand years earlier, before I captured Minas Mithil and converted it to my use. It has decayed since then and only fragments of the foundation and some stray pieces of the chimney remain. The flowers have also grown over the remnants, obscuring them."

It was a somber thought. A millennium ago, there was most likely a family that worked these lands. They lived and died here and with the siege of Minas Ithil and its eventual, subsequent capture, the farmers most likely fled and abandoned their livelihood and home. Their displaced descendants probably had no idea that their lands had since become a garden of the dark powers.

"Hopefully they forsook this place before peril befell them," you sighed.

He gave you no answer but you would not prod into the matter.

The both of you continued to walk along. The clouds remained clear and far from the moon, allowing the flowers to glow brilliantly. There was an evident chill in the air but the furred cloak you donned shielded you from the fall evening. The night was quiet yet it was serene. The silence might unnerve one but you remained at ease, knowing you were secure. It also helped that your consort remained by your side, silent, towering and dark. You knew that no harm would come to you for as long as he remained with you.

"Here," he urged, pulling you to him tenderly. "Perhaps you would like to sit and relax for awhile."

He fluidly threw off his cloak from his shoulders and spread it across the ground, granting you a place to rest. Minus that piece of garment, he now wore his innermost robes and his armor. You also didn't notice until he shed his cloak that his sword was at his hip. Apparently, he left nothing to chance and embarked on this venture, armed and poised.

The Witch-king then untied his scabbard from his hip, setting aside his sword on the covered, flowered earth. He still kept it within arm's reach in case if some unseen, unexpected foe were to happen upon him, however remote the situation was. Then he sat down upon the cloak, hissing softly as he took his seat.

You joined him a moment later and huddled up to his side. One of his arms came around you, holding you close and securing you to him. It actually somewhat surprised you that he was capable of being quite affectionate and craved closeness when the moment struck him. But it was all very much welcome and you didn't shrink away from his touch like you used to. Much had changed since you first crossed paths with him two years ago.

"I know I can only bestow so much unto you, my queen," he said. "But I aim to make you happy with that which is within my power."

"I do not ask for much," you replied. "You delivered my brother and sister to me…" You sighed. "But they ended up leaving. My heart is heavy over it still but they were in too much danger here."

"And you should have joined them."

"Angwen was angry and wouldn't listen to reason. She stormed out, uttering those heavy and wrathful oaths…" You shook your head, the memory haunting you. "But I also could not leave you alone in the dark. I couldn't let it turn to rot and…"

"Speak no more of it." He set a kiss to your cheek. "It is breaking your heart. You will reunite with your family. Your sister is young and she is naïve and brash. I am sure she regrets leaving with such hot wrath in her mind and soul. You will see them again."

Deep inside, you knew they were fine. You felt that they were alive. They were survivors and they had faced various hardships before they reunited with you in Minas Morgul half a year earlier. You already forgave your stubborn sister. You only hoped she would forgive you sooner or later in turn.

But it was still painful. You remained optimistic despite it. There was no other option aside from wallowing in misery and despair over the ordeal. If there was a today, there would be a tomorrow and no one knew what the future could usher in.

"We both have our woes and burdens," he spoke quietly. "Let us forget them in this place. Let only two things exist here; you and I. This is our reprieve, our retreat."

"I suppose you are right," you acknowledged.

"I will not have you saddened. I cannot make myself happy so I strive to give it to you. You are not so hopelessly enslaved as I am."

"I will not forsake you. I chose to remain with you because I love you. I could not bear the thought of your heart withering and rotting."

"I still cannot fathom that you have returned my love. I am nothing more than a pitiless, wretched creature. I do not deserve it."

You placed a finger beneath his chin and raised it, encouraging him to look at you. You wanted him to see you.

"I share Aredhel's likeness for a reason," you said. "I know this was meant to be. And I will see it through no matter what may happen. We have been bound and intertwined with one another. I am not afraid nor will I seek to escape this fate."

"I do not know if I can describe you as brave or foolish," he replied. "But what I do know is that while you bear a striking resemblance to her, you are different from my first wife. She is not you and you are not her."

"And I know you cannot remember much of your time with her but I hope that I was her equal. I hope I am a good wife."

"I loved Aredhel dearly." His tone sounded distant and tinged with regret and sadness. "And I hope that she can forgive me for what I did to her so long ago. I believe that you bearing her likeness has helped me come to terms with her untimely demise. It has helped me cope with the only memory I have had of my mortal life for so long. And I also hope that she can forgive me for what I feel now." Tenderly, he cupped your face with both of his hands. "She never left my mind for Sauron could not erase her completely. And I thank her for being with me even if it was within the confines of my shadowed mind. But I have accepted and moved on. Some power has delivered you to me and I shall never scorn this blessed gift."

You weren't prepared for the powerful and abrupt kiss he bestowed unto you. His hands moved to the back of your head and his fingers tangled themselves into your hair. His lips had fallen upon yours, his gesture firm and passionate. The Wraith lord showed no signs of stopping and was more than eager to relish this moment.

You exhaled forcefully and your eyes widened for a moment at the suddenness. But you realized what was happening and you felt at ease. You returned the kiss to him, more than happy to share it. Your arms came around his neck and you pulled him closer to you, deepening the kiss even further.

Your trust in him was absolute and true. Because of him, you feared almost nothing anymore.


	2. Under Varda’s Spread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only the moon and stars bore witness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So....it's done, finally. It sucks but whatever. Smut is hard and I can never do it properly but oh well, there needs to be more Witch-king/Reader smut LOL. 
> 
> This was supposed to be more serious but I kinda went off the rails and decided to make sort of silly in a way. You'll see what I mean. Y'all are either gonna like it or hate it, let's put it like that! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Chapter 2 Under Varda’s Spread

While you were still in the middle of that kiss, you felt him easing you onto your back. Your cheeks flushed at it, realizing where this was going. You had consummated your marriage to him at last shortly after your family departed Minas Morgul and the two of you indulged in each other a few times after that.

Contrary to how you assumed he would be in the very beginning of your marriage, he was gentle and careful. Perhaps it was because he himself hadn't engaged in this activity in a literal Age. The last time he had been intimate with someone was when he was still married to his first wife and free from the yoke of Sauron. He wanted to be ginger with you and not tarnish any trust or risk harming you.

You rested back on the makeshift spread that was his cloak. His weight rested upon you but you were not uncomfortable. Slowly, you could feel him hike up the skirt of your dress. Your flesh became chilled when it was exposed to the cold air but you knew it wouldn't matter in a few minutes. In time, you knew there would be a fire in your flesh.

He turned his head to the side, finally breaking the kiss. A hiss came from him and he peppered the length of your neck with kisses and licks.

"My queen," he uttered, his voice deeper and laced with desire.

His armored hand traveled up the side of your left thigh, the tips of his fingers grazing against your flesh. They were sharp and potentially deadly things but he caressed you with utmost care. As his hand moved, the skirt was lifted higher and higher, exposing more of your intimacy.

The growl that came from him was so deep and guttural, that you almost felt it. His lust was swelling in both senses of the word.

You reached down, giving him a puckish smirk. Playfully, you cupped and stroked his codpiece, fully intending to rile him up further. While you were a bit shy on the whole act, you couldn't help but tease him a little. You didn't want to be totally passive and lifeless during the whole thing. You reasoned to yourself there was no fun in that.

"Oh, you will pay for that," he gurgled. "I fully intend to make you scream."

"Then do it," you taunted him. "I know you are quite old but surely not that worn. Or am I mistaken?"

A deep laugh came from the Witch-king when he heard those words. A rattling hiss came from within his chest and he rested his forehead against yours. One of his hands traced along the curve of your hips, admiring it. He had you right where he wanted you and as far as he was concerned, you weren't going anywhere. Yet judging from the smug, challenging smirk you wore, he knew full well what was on your mind and he knew you were more than receptive to his advances.

"I am going to fuck you so hard that all of Middle Earth will hear your beautiful song," he uttered.

Your face turned as red as a rose when he said that. Your hold on his codpiece was nonexistent at that point and you could only stare back at him, your jaw hanging. His tone was vulgar and you never even heard him say something like that before. It left you completely and utterly stunned.

Hastily, he undid his codpiece and unceremoniously tossed it aside. The Nazgûl wasted no time and aligned his hips with yours. With your skirt lifted and out of the way, he was granted perfect, unobstructed entrance to you. He released a shaky snarl and he plunged into you.

Your eyes went wide as he went in so deeply so quickly. It felt almost as if the wind was knocked out of you for a fleeting moment. Your spine arched and your toes curled at his insertion. A strangled moan came from you as he promptly stuffed you. Already, he was tapping against your limits and you bristled and wriggled underneath his body.

"Is it too much for you already, my dear?" he crooned but there was a teasing hint to it. "You are far too warm and comfortable for me to leave just yet. Besides, I want to give you something…"

He ground his hips against yours, starting his pace at a rather fast and rhythmic rate. His helm lowered and he focused on your neck again. The Wraith lathed his tongue on it, savoring the warmth and taste of it.

You barely managed to hold back a few groans but it was impossible to do it while he was going at the speed he was maintaining. Your legs crossed over the back of his and you locked them, keeping him close to you and restricting his movement. Now your body had adjusted to him and you forbade him from pulling away. It simply felt too good.

A chill ran down your spine when you could feel his teeth on your neck and collarbone. You shuddered loudly at the sensation and set your hands on the back of his neck, urging him to focus there. They weren't sharp but it was enough to make your body tremble at the feeling. You lifted your head up, presenting your throat to him, trusting your husband and king. Though you teased him and goaded him, you knew you were at his mercy. You were nothing more than malleable clay in his hands at this point.

He showed no signs of stopping or slowing down. He had a healthy amount of stamina and you learned that fairly early on. On that first night, he took you once. A few days after the consummation, he made love to you again. The third time he took you which was a month later, he mated with you all night. Needless to say, you slept like death when it finally ceased and your hips ached but to say that you hated it was a gross misinterpretation.

Gradually, you felt yourself tighten around him. The feeling became more intense and the heat in the pit of your lower belly grew warmer. You were unable to restrain the noise and you moaned loudly into the brisk evening air. Your fingertips dug into his back and it felt as if your eyes were about to pop out of their orbits. It felt as if each thrust was becoming more powerful than the last.

"My king..!" you quietly whined.

The Witch-king's response was a low, animalistic growl. He moved to the nape of your neck, nibbling and sucking on it. When you'd return to the citadel, every single creature in Minas Morgul would know what you did. The evidence would be too obvious but you cared not. They already knew you were his wife. Another reminder would do no harm.

In your haze, you looked skyward, catching sight of the moon. It still shone, unobstructed, bright and beautiful. In fact, it almost seemed like there were no clouds in your immediate sight. But as you looked closer, you could see the stars. The night somehow seemed so perfect, so comely…

You were snapped out of your observations when he suddenly stopped. Your heart skipped a beat, wondering if perhaps something was amiss and he realized something before you could. He had indeed halted but he made no effort to withdraw from you.

"W-what's wrong?" you stammered out. You trembled under him, your body still clenched around his member.

"It was not wise to tease me," he snarled. "Now you will endure one in return."

You groaned and your chest heaved up and down. He rested atop you and didn't pull away. Your instincts urged you to finish if he decided not to. But as his hips rested atop yours, they pinned them, forbidding them much movement at all. It was becoming increasingly frustrating to have him in you and remaining stationary.

"Damn you..!" you huffed, feeling cheated and denied of the pleasure. You shot him a crooked smirk. "I say that you lost your drive, old man."

As a snide chuckle left your mouth, it was quickly transformed into a shrill cry. He powerfully thrusted into you, pushing himself into you as deeply as he could. Your whole body shook from the action and you writhed under the Nazgûl, wracked from the passion. He thrusted that one time and then fell motionless again.

"You speak like a cheeky whore," he rumbled. "So demanding and condescending. I am no old, feeble, weak Man. If I remember correctly, I was leaking out of you that one night. No, I am merely like a finely aged wine. I have only gotten better." A cruel, toothy grin spread across his unseen face. "Can an invalid do this?"

Another sharp, mighty thrust delved deep into you again. Again, you cried out into the night, your fingertips turning snow white as you roughly clung to him. Your inner embraces around him were taut and firmly clamped down onto him. It throbbed, making you squirm and tense as it just grew even stronger. It somehow seemed there were more stars in the sky now than there were before.

He ceased again, resting inside you. The Witch-king bellowed lowly, almost sounding like distant, rolling thunder. The slick but tight warmth was exhilarating to him and he wanted to enjoy it. His body bristled with the way you held fast to his organ but he forced himself to stay focused and not give in just yet.

It was pure torture. You wanted him to finish, feeling that you were so close to your peak. He was intentionally denying you to cum. It was maddening and you struggled against him, trying to grind your hips against his to eek out your peak and experience that wave of pleasure and bask in the aftermath of it. But he remained obstinate, laughing arrogantly as he continued to pin you and blockade you. It was almost as if he was besieging your own body.

"Please!" you needingly cried. "Please, finish it!"

"Yes, my queen?" he asked mockingly. "Finish what?"

"Finish it! I need it!"

"You have to be more specific than that."

He reached down between your hips and his. You shuddered when you felt his armored hands gently feel around your overly stimulated and sensitive region. A guttural scream came from you when you felt him lightly caress your bud. Your vision went white for a second as the touch seared through you.

Despite the fact it made you quake and feel limp momentarily, it wasn't complete. Your breathing became louder and heavier.

"That lovely little pearl," he snickered. "I would kiss it if I wasn't busy already."

"Oh, please," you begged. "Please, I need you!"

"You need me for what?"

The Wraith withdrew his hand from between the two hips and rested it on your chest. It wandered over to your breast and he chuckled mirthfully, admiring the globe of it and its softness. He squeezed it, smirking as you mewled under him.

"Damn you," you cursed, still being tortured by your inability to finish. The need was so great that you felt tears forming in the corner of your eyes. "Just fuck me!"

"So demanding!" he purred. "And what a filthy mouth on such a beautiful face…"

Your face contorted into a snarl and you placed both of your hands on his face. You pulled his head forward, your eyes narrowed into slits as you leered at him.

"Tell me what to do," he growled out. "You need to speak if you want something."

"I want you to fuck me!" you commanded, your lust clouding your mind. "Right now!"

"Well-mannered whores who ask nicely will get what they want…"

You grimaced and let out a growl of frustration. He really was doing this to you. For an instant, you couldn't believe it all but you learned fairly quickly that he was very fond of teasing in moments such as this. He knew how to make you beg and he was frighteningly adept at it. You hated and loved it at the same time.

"I want you to fuck me, please, my king!" you implored, desperation constricting around you. "Please, do it!"

"That's much better…" the lord of the Nazgûl hummed. "I am not that heartless, am I?"

He let out a loud hiss and crashed his lips against yours. He kissed you roughly, causing you to squeal into his mouth. Very quickly, you found his tongue snaking into your mouth and unable to stop it. It grappled with your own, swiftly overcoming you.

You screamed into his mouth when he suddenly and powerfully began to thrust into you. His pace was fast and strong, giving you exactly what you desired. With each plunge, you cried out, your noises being somewhat muffled as he still occupied your mouth. There was no way you could focus on breathing through your mouth anymore and your nose inhaled and exhaled rapidly, getting in as much air into your lungs while you found yourself at his mercy.

The Witch-king persisted with his merciless motions. His tongue tasted you, enjoying it and the noises he caused you to make. His armored form bristled as he felt you tighten even more around him than what he thought was possible for an instant. His sharp fingertips dug through the cloak beneath you, penetrating through the black cloth and beginning to shred it. He kept his hands on the cloak, far preferring to mutilate that than your flesh. While he took pleasure in teasing, he would not risk scarring you in the middle of this mating.

He felt his endurance faltering. He was so close. No longer could he find himself able to hold out against the heat and tightness. This mortal female was able to bring him to his knees. You wielded no Dúnedain sword or Elvish enchantment to cripple him. No, you were able to defeat him with your own form.

This was an opponent he would happily fall to. And he knew that you were just as vulnerable to him. It was perfect.

Your mind was in a hazy fog and your thoughts were nonexistent. You could only focus on the pounding as he thrust in and out again and again and again. Weakly, you continued to kiss him, your head swimming and your body feeling like water. All you could do was lay back and let him continue. Although he was naturally cold, that sensation had all but died away and now he felt as hot as a piece of iron that sat out on a sunny, summer day.

Suddenly, you felt the Nazgûl’s whole body shudder and tense up. A distorted moan came from his mouth and he abruptly broke the kiss. His hands firmly pressed against your ears and his head tilted back. Even with his hands shielding your hearing, you could hear the explosive, grating, long shriek that came from him and signaled his finish. You cringed at the sheer volume of it and were grateful he prevented you from becoming deaf.

As soon as he unleashed that fearsome cry, you felt him burst. When that cold sensation flooded you, it was too much and your body could no longer endure it. The added stimulus pushed you over the edge and you found yourself thrust upon the peak. A powerful scream of your own mixed in with his but it was quickly drowned out by it. Your cry of passion was paltry in comparison to the scream of the mighty Wraith.

You fidgeted under him, your body reeling with convulsions of ecstasy. Your toes curled and your legs trembled, their strength leaving them even though they were crossed over his body and being supported by them. He continued to pierce into you, some instincts that not even Sauron was capable of totally suppressing having taken full control of him. You whined softly, your body completely numb and exhausted. The Witch-king persisted, absolutely determined to give you every single bit of himself that he had. He would not relent until he was spent.

He hands retreated from your ears but you could hear his hearty caterwaul echo through the vale. It had died down but you could certainly still hear it. You shuddered to think that another soul heard this lovemaking. His cry traveled and rang throughout the Morgul vale and you were absolutely positive that all the terrible denizens of Minas Morgul probably heard him.

It felt like it almost took an age but it was only a minute or two. His flow died and you could feel him collapse atop you. Your eyes widened at the action, his weight bearing down on you. Your lower belly felt quite tender and full as he remained in you along with his seed that he bestowed you. Your hands rested on his back still and you could feel a lethargic gurgle resonate through his body. To you, it seemed that the Morgul lord was as drained from this foray as you were.

You hardly registered the shallow laughter that came from him. You were only alerted to his intentions when you felt yourself shifting. His arms encircled around you and he rolled over onto his back. The Witch-king reclined and kept his arms around you, holding you to him and letting you rest atop him. One of his hands rested at the base of your spine and the other ran over your hair.

"You lovely, wonderful woman," he said, his voice deep and sounding as if he woke up from a long slumber. He lifted his head up to kiss you then dropped it back, resting again. "Do you have any idea how much I treasure you?"

You smiled at him, your cheeks turning pink.

"I have heard it is not rare for lovers to say things of this nature in the afterglow of their trysts," you said.

"I am sincere," he asserted. "You think I am delusional?"

"No…" You kissed him back and rubbed his chest. "It is not that, my king."

"When I say I love you, I mean it. Do not question it. You are dearer to me than you realize, my queen." He stroked the back of your head. "You are the sole, comforting light in the blackest, blinding midnight. And if you think it through enough, even creatures of the dark ultimately crave the light…" He fell silent for a moment before he spoke again. His helm tilted skywards. "I have not admired the stars in a very long time. How numerous and luminous they are."

You lifted your head up, following his example. The sky above you remained beautiful and luminous. Stars twinkled softly and the moon glowed brightly. You stared at the heavenly sphere hanging over you, appreciating the beauty you had in your life.

In this dark, forbidding place, there were lovely things. It was no dream. You only had to open your eyes and have someone else introduce you to it.

"Yes," you said, agreeing. "How lovely and soft they are."

(...)

”Did you hear that?”

Ûlik shuddered involuntarily. The noise chilled the blackened blood in his veins and he stared off into the distance. He hesitated for a moment, unwilling to answer his friend’s question. But after a few more tense seconds, he nodded.

”I did,” he confirmed. “What do we do, Grindel?”

”That was the Witch-king!” Grindel said. “We should send a group of our boys out to make sure things are okay!”

”But surely he can deal with any sort of threat?”

”Are you suggesting we do nothing?”

”I...I don’t know. I think it’s more of a damned if we do, damned if we don’t situation. Know what I mean?”

Grindel’s face contorted into an expression of confusion and befuddlement. He looked as if he was focusing intensely for a moment. His friend’s reasoning did make enough sense to him and he could see what he was talking about. It was very hard to predict the Morgul lord at times.

”The queen went with him,” Grindel stated. “The Witch-king has been screeching a lot more lately. Maybe he’s mad at her?”

”Unlikely,” Ûlik snorted. “Nowadays, they seem closer than ever! She’s the last soul he’d be mad at!”

”This doesn’t make sense. Maybe we’ll have to ask some of the boys that are part of their personal staff. Ask them some questions so we can understand.”

”But why would he shriek like that? I know that’s what Shriekers do. That’s why we call them Shriekers! But it doesn’t sound...typical.”

”Let it be.”

The two Orcs visibly jumped when they heard the third voice join in. Grindel and Ûlik turned around, seeing a shadow amongst the shadows. They trembled and felt vulnerable and cornered. They had no idea that one of the Nazgûl was eavesdropping on their conversation.

They had difficulty discerning one from the other but they knew of the Witch-king and Khamûl but even then it could be tricky especially if they weren’t wearing their particular garb or gear. But judging by this one’s ragged, raspy voice, it was one of the lesser members of the Nine.

”We are sorry, sir!” Ûlik pleaded. “Please, grant us mercy!”

”Quiet, fool,” the Wraith said almost nonchalantly. “Send no party out after the Witch-king. And do not pry into the matters of his staff. That is best left unspoken.”

”Of course, my lord,” Grindel bowed deeply to the corrupted Man. “Perhaps it is silly of us to wonder!”

The Nazgûl peered over the ramparts of Minas Morgul, gazing off into the direction where the couple rode off to earlier. He was silent as he did so and the pair of Orcs stood in silent apprehension. His armored hands lightly scraped against the stone. This strange, unknown but oddly familiar feeling bubbled up inside him. 

He was more than aware of what had transpired. He was not ignorant. He could smell the Witch-king on the woman and the woman on the Witch-king. As much as he preferred to ignore it and turn a blind eye, it became more and more difficult to do so. It was maddening. 

Once more, his innermost thoughts turned to his growing wish. He was not successful in Bree. Perhaps Gondor or Rohan had more suitable choices.

  
“My advice to you two is this,” he said, finally looking away. “You best learn to ignore those screams. Married couples do what they do.”

The Ringwraith hissed softly and walked off, leaving the two Orcs alone. The duo remained silent and unmoving as they listened to the sound of him walk off. They almost didn’t dare to breathe until he left the immediate area.

When they could no longer hear the sound of his armored feet on the stone floor, they looked at each other, their sallow eyes wide. They gawked at each other in disbelieving quiet. Now they wished that they never discussed this matter out loud. 

“Oh...” Ûlik grunted. “Oh! I mean, I knew but... I didn’t actually know. I...forgot?”

Grindel tossed his head back and laughed raucously. He leaned against the spear he held in his hand, his noise ringing out from the watch tower he and Ûlik occupied. The high pitched noise rose high in the air and fell upon the dreaded citadel. Even the passing Orcs by on the lower levels looked upwards, their attention nabbed by the obnoxious laughter.

“The queen is tougher and crazier than any Uruk bred in Mordor!” he howled. “Now that is a tark I can respect and serve!”

”Ignorance is bliss...” Ûlik muttered to himself, shaking his head in disdain. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Morwen from “Introductory Course” showed up nine months later, folks! If you made it to the end, congrats and thank you LMFAO


End file.
